What Started It All
by ZenyZootSuit
Summary: How does one govern a seamless universe when he has not had a painless day in millenia? Simple: he doesn't. Michael's Heaven and Earth from pre-pre season 1 through season 5.


Disclaimer: IT'S MINE, ALL MINE! *wakes up* Damn it

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From the minute light was made, God knew it was going to end with Sam and Dean Winchester. Two brother, vessels, for two brothers, archangels. And from the minute He told Michael he would one day have to kill his little brother, his precious Lucifer, the older wouldn't believe it. Why would he? Lucifer was his pride and joy. God's as well, His most beautiful creation. Always one for mischief, having taught young Gabriel everything he knew (which was a lot), but never truly serious about anything he did. Then he rebelled.

All it really was was a temper tantrum. "Daddy was mean to me so I'm going to smash all his toys," as Gabriel once put it, sums it up rather nicely. The problem was that temper tantrum took the form of an all out war.

Michael would win. He was stronger, older, and faster, with more battle experience. His forces crushed the rebels without even breaking a sweat. They never had a chance. This was Heaven they were fighting against. At that time good always won out over evil. But evil stains and that stain cannot be wiped out.

Angels aren't supposed to feel emotion. Why did Michael have to as he stood, towering over his baby brother, about to banish him from Heaven? A pain worse than a killing sword straight through the Grace burrowed its way through the general's chest, twisting and tightening, restricting his breath, making it all the harder to do what he had been commanded to do. But orders were orders, so down he cast the falling angel deep into the darkness of Hell. After all, he was a good son.

"I HATE YOU!" Lucifer screamed as he fell. A single salty tear slipped its way down Michael's cheek. _I'm sorry_. He quickly wiped away the tear and banished the thought so not to appear weak before the Heavenly Host, before his troops who were relying on him to remain strong in the wake of what they had had to do. But as he walked away from the edge of Heaven he felt truly alone and that feeling, black and deathly, almost made him spin around and follow his brother in his downward spiral. Almost.

He sat alone in the storeroom that night, hidden from prying eyes by the numerous scrolls and ancient texts of creation. Back against the cold stone wall, face buried in his knees, Heaven's mighty general cried. Tears streaming down his face, heartbroken sobs tearing their way from his throat, he rocked himself back and forth, but there was no comfort to be found. If he squeezed his eyes shut he could almost envision the Morningstar's brilliant smile, his hearty laugh, and his sobs would quiet, until he opened his eyes. Reality and its pain would then come, reminding him that his brother burnt in Hell, cast there by Michael himself, by someone he'd loved, trusted…and the tears would return.

Night after night Gabriel would wake up screaming for Luci, upsetting the new fledgling Castiel in the process, who would cry simply because of the pain and terror radiating from the other angel. So night after night Michael would pull both little angels into his arms, shushing them and telling them it would be alright, that it would get better. The first lie told by an angel. In truth, the fighting between the now permanently split sides would continue, forever Michael assumed. It was Gabriel's worst fear, watching his family tear each other apart, so he left. Up and left one morning without a trace. It had been the first night Michael hadn't heard his cries. He should've known something was wrong.

So the Prince of Heaven was left alone once again, cradling tiny Cas to his chest as the fledgling cried himself to sleep in Michael's room every night, afraid to sleep without Gabriel.

Michael did his very best. He governed Heaven and Earth while doubling up as a replacement for their now absentee Father. The other angels sure didn't make it easy on him. With constant pressure from the know-it-all-ass Zachariah, Raphael not giving two shits about anyone or anything, and the fact that Uriel _would. not. stop. _blowing Earthly towns off the map, it was a wonder how everything ran as smoothly as it did with only one steady hand guiding it. "Steady" is a relative term.

Day after day he sat in the storeroom, watching over Earth, extinguishing sin where he found it, for a while anyway. In truth, every word sworn, every life taken, reminded him of Lucifer. Perhaps not the best of him, but the Morningstar nonetheless. So he let one act slide, then another here and another there, until he stopped giving a fuck all together.

Over the years, things changed around Heaven. Castiel grew to be a faithful soldier, no longer the quivering ball of feathers tucked under Michael's covers. Anna, bless her heart, managed to put a leash on Uriel after just barely stopping Michael from incinerating him after one destruction too many. Raphael began to at least _act_ like he cared and, best of all, one good wallop over the head with the butt of an angel blade curbed Zachariah's tongue. Michael however, remained the same.

His hair still shone so black it was blue, as ruffled as it was at that battle millennia ago, his blue eyes still sharp, though not as much as before the Rebellion. His shoulders were still strong, his voice sharp. The tightness remained in his chest and, only when he sat alone, the tears in his eyes.

In those years, one thing about him did change: Michael grew to hate Lucifer or more specifically all the pain he had caused his older brother. All the years of solitude, the immense burden he had to accept as his, Gabriel leaving, and most of all, he blamed Lucifer for making their Father leave. One way or another, Lucifer would pay.

When word of Dean Winchester breaking the first seal in Hell reached his ears, Michael jumped at the chance. Of course he would have to cover his tracks. Hence he sent out all the lower-ranking angels, leaving only Raphael and Zachariah privy to his plan, as he "tried" to stop the demons, "tried" to prevent the Apocalypse, all the while wishing he black-eyed bastards would hurry the hell up. His guise would be his orders given to him by his Father at the beginning of time; he would kill Lucifer.

In the body of young John Winchester, Michael stared down Dean. Dear, sweet Anna was burned to a crisp behind him. His anger had overpowered his love for his sister. How dare she make an attempt on his plan! Whether she had known it or not hadn't mattered to him.

"Michael…I didn't know…" _Idiot, _thought the archangel. He was considering smiting the other angel as well when he remembered that little Castiel would kill him in a warehouse in thirty years. Little Castiel who now lay, falling, on a motel bed in town.

"_Goodbye_, Uriel," he said as smoothly as ever and with a snap of his fingers, the angel was gone. 

Dean, needless to say, was none too happy to see the oldest archangel.

"Oh I know what this is about. You got beef with your brother," the hunter snapped. "Well get some therapy pal, don't take it out on my planet!" Had this been before Lucifer's fall, Michael would've laughed.

"Lucifer defied our Father and he betrayed me, but still…I don't want this any more than you would want to kill Sam." _But he still deserves to pay._

Was that a flicker of sympathy in the Winchester boy's eye? Michael turned and strode slowly over to where Sam lay dead on the floor. "You know my brother…I practically raised him. I took care of him in a way most people could never understand and I still love him." The angel's voice was close to cracking. "But I am going to kill him because it is right and I have to." _He has to pay for what he's done._

"What because God says so?"

"Yes. From the beginning he knew this is how it was going to end."

Dean stared at him in disbelief. "And you're just going to do whatever God says?"

"Yes because I am a good son." _And I __can't__ won't let Lucifer get away with this._ Dean looked sadly at Michael.

"Trust me, pal, take it from someone who knows…that is a dead end street."

"And you think you know better than my Father?" _Why did I obey Him? _"You're one, unimportant little man, what makes you think you get to choose?" _When I didn't._

"Because I gotta believe that I can choose what I do with my…_unimportant_ little life." The hunter's resolve was amazing, however useless. Michael smiled the smile of a man driven mad from years of anguish and regret.

"You're wrong. You wanna know how I know?" _Because I've played that same scene over and over and no matter the path I would've still cast Lucifer into Hell._

He stands in the body of Adam Milligan, a tight fit, but bearable.

"It's good to see you Michael." _Luci…_ Taking a deep breath, he answers,

"You too…It's been too long." _Can I do this?_

"Can you believe it's finally here?"

Michael shakes his head. _I have to do this. _"No…Not really." He sighs through his nose, eyes trained on his brother. "You ready?"

"As I'll ever be…Part of me wishes we didn't have to do this." Lucifer stares hopefully at the general.

"Yeah…"Michael finally replies. "Me too." _But we're going to._

Lucifer's eyes light up. "Then why are we?!"

"Oh you know why." _You betrayed me, you bastard. You left me alone._ "I have no choice after what you did!"

"What I did?" Anger prickles in Lucifer's tone. "What if it's _not my fault_?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Think about it. Dad made everything. That means he made me who I am. God _wanted_ the Devil."

"So?" The all too familiar tightness snags his breath and makes his voice crack.

"So why make us fight? I just can't seem to figure out the point." By this point Michael was nearly shaking with fury. _How dare he not see!_

"What's your point?"

"We're going to kill each other," Lucifer says softly. "For what? One of Dad's tests? We don't even know the answer. We're brothers." The Morningstar's voice is laced with desperation. _Please_, he sends telepathically. _Listen to me._ "Let's just walk off the chessboard."

_No. _"I'm sorry I…I can't do that. I'm a good son. And I have my orders." _It's too late Luci, the damage has been done. There's no fixing this._

"You don't have to follow them." _But I want to._

"What, you think I'm gonna rebel? Now?! I'm not like you!"

"Please Michael—"

"You know you haven't changed _a bit_, little brother. Always blaming everybody but yourself! We were together. We were _happy_. But you betrayed me, all of us, and you made our Father leave!" It's irrational, Michael knows, but after all these years he has earned the right to be irrational. Just a little bit.

"No one makes Dad do anything! He is doing this to us!" Lucifer snarls back. Michael composes himself, plastering on the same face he'd worn for thousands of years and says,

"You're a monster Lucifer," he says softly, enjoying watching his brother flinch. "And I have to kill you." _This pain is your fault Lucifer and I will never forgive you for it._

"Hey! Assbutt!" Castiel. The same angel who used to come running, tears streaming down his cheeks, wings flared, upset from the chaos of Heaven, Castiel who was almost fallen because he loved, has just thrown a Molotov of Holy Fire. Michael might've smiled if he hadn't been screaming.

Michael is honestly surprised to see Sam staring back at him, holding Lucifer at bay when he returns. "I have to fight my brother, Sam. It's my destiny!" He calls out to the human, but to no avail. When Sam leans back something akin to fear shoots through the archangel. He cannot, _will not_, watch his brother fall again. He reaches out and grabs Sam's, _Lucifer's_, arm, but Sam is stronger. _I'm sorry brother, _he thinks as he falls.

Hellfire licks along his wings, smoke stings his eyes, but he doesn't care. He is here, he is fallen, in the Cage, and no one, despite all he did for Heaven, all he sacrificed, is going to pull him out.

He sees Castiel come and wrestle with Lucifer for Sam. Adam sits in the corner, terrified. Michael doesn't pay much attention to his ex-vessel. His eyes are locked on Gabriel's old charge. The soldier manages to rip Sam's body from the Cage, but Lucifer keeps his vice grip on the boy's soul. The Morningstar, back in the form of his old vessel, Nick, launches himself at the roof of the cage, charred wings flaring out in rage. Castiel soars out of reach, but he doesn't leave just yet. Instead his blue eyes lock on Michael's.

"I'm sorry Michael," he says, swooping to the world above. Michael doesn't move, doesn't speak. It's funny how apologies don't really mean a damn thing.

Lucifer sets about making sure Sam pays for throwing them back in here. Michael almost calls out, but the Morningstar is only mirroring his older brother. Had Michael not sought the same fate for Lucifer?

So the eldest archangel sits alone and listens. To Adam's fearful cries, to Sam's pained ones, to Lucifer's infuriated ones. The smell of rotting, burning flesh surrounds him as he closes his eyes, no more will to care and no more tears to cry.

El Fin

A/N:…Yeah I overdid it on the hurt-without-comfort, but plot bunnies are incredibly annoying creatures! They will not leave one alone unless an author does _exactly_ what they say and then they just leave before said author can finish the ending! Also I was recovering from oral surgery when I typed this up so someone was going to suffer with me.

Any reviewers will get a free hug from baby!Cas


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